Like The Son He Never Had
by elfmaiden4legs
Summary: Re-Upload. My series of one shots depicting scenes of Pellew and Hornblower's father-son relationship from The Even Chance through to Duty. There are 5 parts to this story in total.
1. The Uneven Chance

**The Uneven Chance**

"By God, poor devils." Captain Pellew stared on with a mixture of regret and bewildered awe at the scene of bittersweet British victory which had just unfolded before him. The French fleet were beaten, the entire stern of one of their great vessels completely blown away by cannon fire. The rest of the French Navy were now surrendering, dead and survivors alike sharing the same murky depths of the ocean's bitter waters.

Although there was a fresh, salty sharpness to the air, it was still masked in part by the mild scent of gunpowder and the thick acrid smoke which had billowed out from the stern of the great ship. Pellew looked around for any indication of where the victorious shot had been fired from, not made by the hard pressed crew of the '_Indefatagable_' that was for certain, and he had seen no sign of the presence of an ally ship when the French fleet had first started firing upon them.

It didn't take him long however to spot the '_Pappion_'through the lens of his viewing glass; her French colours remaining in flight throughout the course of the recent battle her crew had spared her the same inconvenience as the far less fortunate '_Indefatagable_' – although it now became all too clear from where the fateful shot had been fired, as her French colours were lowered, to be replaced by the British red, white and blue. Her take over had been successful after all then, but now he got to wondering about his men. How many of his crew had survived, and how many must have lost their lives during the initial boarding of the '_Pappion_'? Who was it who, even now, had control over the magnificent hulk of the ship, and who had, in no small feat, just saved all of their lives?

There was however one member of his most recent intake of crew whom he permitted himself to dwell upon a little longer than the others; the young Hornblower. An exceptional youth, although lacking in military experience when he had first set foot upon his ship, and some would say bearing the load of a most unfortunate start to both his career and reputation, Pellew had seen great things in the young Midshipman – great things which were undoubtedly still yet to come.

That was if the boy was not already amongst the inevitable fallen at the bottom of the sea.

Then the Captain realised, he had not seen a boy, but a man… a truly great man, who's young soul burnt bright with both the strength and the ambition of an officer thrice his years, and whom considerable things could be expected of. Not only this, but he had indeed seen a good man.

Unfortunately however there had been nothing of the same sincerity in the likes of Mr. Simpson's eyes. Men could be very much like ships Pellew thought. It took the finest, only the most sturdy and solid of vessels to make the grade, but this could not protect them once they were finally set against the perils of the sea.

As had the young Hornblower's, Mr. Simpson's reputation had preceded him too to a degree. Just like the ship which within a week at war may be holed and sunk, dragging her valiant crew down with her, he had risen only so far in the ranks, but with his commission refused he was unlikely to rise any further. The man himself in all honesty was probably aware of this, but although new to a life at sea, Pellew had recognised that quite the opposite fate lay in wait for the young Midshipman. Ever since he had heard of Mr Hornblower's admirable handling of the French frigate and her crew, just days after being assigned to the '_Indefatagable_', he'd known that a long and prestigious career was surely on the cards for the likes of a man such as Hornblower…

No… he was alive… the Captain didn't know how he knew this, only that he had to be…

He looked on, at the scene of devastation before him, and at the splintered wreck of fractured wood and fragmented glass floating on the surface of the ocean which had until today played such a profound part in the French war effort.

Yes, he thought, Mr. Hornblower would make it through, he felt well assured of that, and he was confident that the young man could take care of himself. There were more pressing issues for him to deal with now; the tending of the wounded amongst them. Captain Pellew knew his duty was to above all else keep a clear mind and composed disposition in front of his men, and whilst in command of his ship…

For the sake of them all, and for the sake of England.


	2. This Bullet

**This Bullet**

"_The bullet lodged itself in his armpit, quite deep, more than just a superficial flesh wound, but nothing too serious. He was very lucky Sir."_

Captain Pellew stood aboard his ship, Midshipman Hornblower at his side - but Doctor Hepplewhite's words were still fresh in his mind. The young man had indeed been lucky, a few inches more to the left and the bullet could very easily have penetrated his chest wall, puncturing his heart – and there would have been nothing anyone could have done to save him.

The loss of Simpson however – although regrettable – wasn't going to pray very heavily upon Pellew's mind. His conscience was clear. The harsh realities of a life at war, and at sea, had taught the Captain that death was inevitable. Life could be cruel and whilst the experience strengthened some – making hero's out of many – those it weakened could often neither settle for nor accept their lot… and the loss of one life had been necessary to save another.

The decision however had still not come easily to Captain Pellew – it had been a split second decision, but he'd seen in that moment that Simpson was a man who was never going to change. He'd seen it before, and such a destructive trait ruined a man's character, often having a knock on effect on the entire crew.

Simpson had become bitter after many years of service, watching others rise in the ranks before him, and realising his own lack of promotion prospects. For one reason or another he'd probably gone as far as he was likely too in the Kings Royal Navy, and he'd always find some way of taking his frustrations out on those who demonstrated more potential or proved themselves to be better men than he.

Simpson was a man beyond saving… and he'd only got himself to blame. Captain Pellew could not allow a good man – a man who'd proven himself, and only recently been distinguished in battle – to die.

In his own mind he was assured that he'd made the right decision.

"How's your arm Mr Hornblower?" He asked – harmony now fully restored upon the _Indefatigable_ as he watched over his crew, busily going about their duties on deck. "I hope Doctor Hepplewhite managed to fix it up for you!"

"It'll mend Sir!" The young Hornblower nodded.

He was going to make somebody a distinguished and promising Lefttennant someday… Captain Pellow could only hope that such an honour was destined for him.


	3. The Plague Ship

**The Plague Ship**

Captain Pellew stood on deck staring blankly out to sea, but what comfort was this vast expanse of salt water to offer him now he wondered, when the life of one of his best officer's now lay in question, as well as those of a quarter of his crew?

As an experienced officer himself, having served most of his life in His Majesty's Royal Navy, Pellew had witnessed the loss of many good men. Whether in battle or through sickness and disease it was something he found no man ever quite capable of accustoming himself to, and even after so many years of servitude he still felt the pain of loss for each and every one of them.

He had himself always in the past found solace and managed to escape under the mask of what he himself understood to be his duty, and therefore what could only be perceived as being a life so far dominated by what was right and true.

This was a time of war, and as such one had to accept that men would be lost… although this time Captain Pellew felt very different.

The choice had not been his to make the day he had sent the young acting Lefttennant Hornblower off under the shroud of preserving and delivering supplies to Gibraltar, with the black cloud of plague hanging over his head and those of the men now placed under his young, although no less competent, command. Yet the young Midshipman had known his duty towards his men, his ship, and his Captain. Ever resilient and resourceful as he knew him to be the Captain had hoped that masking the gravity of the situation would somehow give the young Hornblower strength and will enough to fight if the occasion arose for him to do so.

Deep down in his heart however he knew that if any man aboard the ship, which he had now close to a month since watched gracefully sail away from him, succumbed there would be nothing anyone could do for victims of the dreaded plague.

If they weren't there waiting for them in port at Gibraltar by the time they arrived they were surely lost.

It was understood and embraced by all men in His Majesty's Royal Navy that battle brought with it a very real and ever present threat to life, but the greatest fear which stirred within the hearts of most men was that inspired by the threat of disease – for which there could be little relief, and rarely could a successful cure at sea be sought… the most terrible of all being and feared of which was plague.

Captain Pellew had never had a son, having never had a lady who'd bore him any children, but he had recognised something special in the young Hornblower. He had sworn then to nurture whatever he could in the seventeen year old, who's greatest strength and asset even at his tender age – when most young men were still trying to find their way in the world – had turned out to be his bravery and unrivalled courage.

He could not even begin to imagine such strength of character crushed so readily, and had lay awake many a night struggling not to dwell for too long upon what the young man might, even now, very well be going through. As Captain of the _Indefatigable_ his sense of duty towards his king, his country, and her people was unquestionable, his affection for his ship a powerful one, cementing his bond to the sea. His respect for his men was essential to maintaining harmony within the ranks of his crew, and his education – which was a richly academic one, but more importantly rife with what life's teachings had taught him about the world. Some of which he had no doubt would have given him a great deal less to concern himself over had he been as blissfully ignorant as some.

He knew all about the painful swellings afflicting the body, oozing and secreting contaminated puss and blood, the headaches, the fever, the stench of infection which overwhelmed the ship and her crew, infecting anyone unfortunate enough to breathe in the poisonous air. But he could not bring himself to conceive that such a fate was what lay in store for Mr Hornblower.

As he stood on deck the jubilant cries of his crew suddenly disrupted his trail of thought, drawing him away from his restless contemplation and immediately reminding him of the more pressing practical issues needing to be seen to in the more imminent future.

They would be docking in Gibraltar any day now and there was no doubt in Captain Pellew's mind that those of the _Indefatigable's_ disheartened crew who remained were going to need supplies from somewhere, if he was not to lose the remaining half of his men to starvation and disease during the next leg of their voyage.

He was by no means a short tempered man but with the odds seeming to be so heavily stacked against a young officer with such a distinguished career ahead of him in his Majesty's Royal Navy – a man whom he would already rank amongst some of Britain's finest men, despite his youth and comparative inexperience – his tempers were somewhat frayed, and it was with this in mind that he abandoned his current position and made move to join with the rest of his men.

"What is the meaning of this commotion?" He demanded as he stepped up to the forecastle deck.

Lefttennant Bracegirdle, who appeared to be the only man to hear his Captain's question over the raucous cries of the other men, grinned broadly as he directed his commanding officers attention towards the cause of the crew's buoyancy. "That sir!" He cried.

Captain Pellew turned his attention in the direction to which the Lefttennant stood indicating and frowned as he observed the worn and weathered form of the frigate in front of him – sailing almost parallel with the _Indefatigable's _impressive form.

He observed the small ship with a rising in his heart, but it was the sight of the figure standing dutifully and to attention at the forefront of the main deck which plucked at his heartstrings – face slightly pink, evident even from this distance, from the intense heat of a climate he was not naturally accustomed to, and straw hat casting a healthy shadow over his youthful features.

"Good heavens." Captain Pellew exclaimed, voicing his thoughts out loud as the young Acting Lefttennant's eyes met with the gaze of his Captain and both men greeted each other with a subtle salute – the young Hornblower grasping the brim of his straw hat respectfully as Pellew too reached to grip his cap. Lefttennant Bracegirdle noticed the bemused smile appearing upon his superior's face.

It was obvious to all who caught a glimpse of their Captain's expression in that moment that he had not expected the young Hornblower to have made it through the past few weeks at sea.

Indeed Lefttennant Bracegirdle had himself expressed the view quite openly that the young Acting Lefttennant and his men were surely already dead, as the young man had delivered the news to them of the outbreak which he and his men had unwittingly spent several hours in close proximity to.

But as it would appear Mr Hornblower certainly seemed to be made of stronger stuff than most, he had overcome his own fears and insecurity, battling seemingly overwhelming obstacles whilst remaining in charge of his men. He had maintained order aboard his ship under what were quite possibly the most challenging circumstances a Captain could face… although, Lefttennat Bracegirdle now thought privately to himself, the greatest challenge was perhaps yet to come.

Captain Pellew stood on deck waiting to receive the long awaited and much anticipated supplies, which the young Midshipman's return had promised to bring. The examination for Lefttannant was scheduled to take place the following day at Admiralty House, and no doubt Mr Hornblower would, as ever, not fail in rising to the occasion.


	4. An Ill-Fated Expedition

**An Ill-Fated Expedition**

Captain Pellew looked on in mixed astonishment and obvious relief as he caught sight of the young Leftennant Hornblower boarding the ship along with the rest of the exhausted survivors of the British fleet. They, the Captain realised, were the fortunate few.

Vaguely bewildered, the Captain could see even from this distance that the young man appeared a little absent of mind, but he was at least alive. He had felt certain that nobody could have survived with the odds so staggering stacked against them – but as he had done so countless times before, and no doubt would do countless times in the future, the young Lefttennant had somehow come through.

"Mr Hornblower, you'll report in my cabin if you please." He gave orders.

"Aye aye sir."

Although it was not immediately necessary the Captain was anxious to speak with the young man, for, apart from his obvious fatigue, it was quite clear to Pellew that Hornblower did not appear quite himself. He observed his pale complexion, dirt streaked face and haunted expression mindfully.

"Captain?" He heard a voice behind him, and turned to see Major Edrington and Master Bowles come up beside him. "May I have a word with you sir?" The Major asked.

"You may." Pellew responded.

"It concerns our young Lefttennant Hornblower." The Major explained.

"What man? Is he wounded?" Pellew demanded of the officer, failing to keep his tone devoid of concern as he spoke – his heart sank upon hearing the Major's words.

"No sir," The Major responded, much to the Captain's relief, "but I fear he's in a bad way."

"Bad way?" Pellew frowned.

"Yes sir." The young Marine cleared his throat in a manner which indicated his discomfort. This was evidently not a conversation he wanted to be having with the Captain. "You see there was a woman… a young French peasant from the village… I'm afraid Mr Hornblower became rather attached to her, perhaps a little more attached than he rightly ort to have, if you get my meaning sir… I'm afraid that she didn't make it." He explained.

"Arh…" Captain Pellew lowered his head, arms clasped firmly behind his back as he nodded in understanding. "I see."

He listened to Major Edrington's retelling of the young Lefttennant's valiant attempt to spare the young woman her dignity and sense of self-worth and respect, defending her from the hands of Colonel Moncoutant and the rest of the French fleet. It was his belief that the young woman had found a place in the young Hornblower's heart. He had sworn to protect her from the Colonel – who had launched his campaign of terror not long after arriving in Muzzllac – and the two had shared a special bond, which, had it been allowed to blossom and under very different circumstances to those they had both found themselves in, may very well have turned to love… though, regretfully, it wasn't meant to be.

As Captain Pellew listened on with concerned interest and the revelation came that the young woman had in fact died in the young man's arms, only yards away from safety, he realised that this would only have intensified Hornblower's feelings of responsibility for the lady – and that had it not been for the gallant efforts of Acting Lefttennant Kennedy Mr Hornblower would surely have been left behind at the Bridge, after it was blown up when the British fleet were forced to retreat.

"I fear his spirit is broken Captain." The Major concluded with regret – although it was not in Captain Pellew's character to make such assumptions about any man until he had had the opportunity to speak with them himself first hand.

When the young – then Midshipman – Hornblower had first joined his company he had made it quite clear to all of his men that he 'judged a man by what he saw him do', not by mere speculation and opinion alone, and he refused now to accept the Major's assessment.

He was going to have to consider the situation very carefully however, Pellew could tell that. The young man's heart _had_ been broken, and in many respects it would have been easier to heal a man whose body had been broken by the flight of a bullet or the sting of a French sword rather than his soul by loss and grief.

But Pellew would have considered himself a poor Captain if he didn't know his men, and especially his own officers, well enough to imagine how they were likely take such a blow, and therefor how he himself could best offer consol.

"Then I'm afraid you don't know our Mr Hornblower." He responded and, with this, he made his way below deck to his cabin, where the young Lefttennant would be waiting for him.


	5. Childish Things

**Childish Things**

"_When I was a child I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child. But when I became a man I put away childish things."_

Admiral Pellew had watched the young Hornblower grow up from a boy into a man, and now he was about to enter into that next, and perilless stage of adulthood. He was now a man of the world, with a pretty young wife, and with this would soon come a young family of his own.

Admiral Pellew was all too aware of what many thought of Maria, although they did not dare voice their concerns except amongst themselves; that she was not a worthy match for an officer in the Kings Navy. But Admiral Pellew – with all his wisdom and experience of the world – could see that she would make the young Hornblower a good wife.

She was devoted to her husband, and would love him – even if he couldn't return her affection or commit himself completely to her in return. She was in debt to him for the kindness Hornblower had shown to her and her family, and her gratitude for such a selfless act of generosity would keep her loyal and true. She would stand by his side through thick and thin when others might have turned away, and although not born into noble stock she had been blessed with some intelligence and would soon learn how to behave, and what was expected of her as the wife of an officer in the Kings Navy. She would do nothing to compromise her husband's honour, nor to threaten his position.

Despite the fact that Hornblower hadn't now served under Pellew for a good many years, it was still with a heavy heart that he observed the figure of the man standing before him – few indications of the boy remained in his still youthful features, but it was his eyes which now set him apart. The eager glimmer still remained, but the fear and confusion of childhood had gone, to be replaced by the steely and determined glint of the man – and the demeanour of a commander now oozed from him.

Admiral Pellew realised that there was nothing more he could do for the young man – his job was now done.

He'd moulded and nurtured the young Hornblower as he would one of his very own. He'd treated him like the child he'd never thought he'd have – and now had come the time to cut the last of the mooring rods and set the young man free, to see where the next stage of his journey through life would take him. He'd always be there forever more – and for as long as he was permitted to remain upon this God tended earth – to offer advice and support to his young charge, whenever and for as long as it was needed. But it was with regret that he could do nothing more to protect him from the perils of war, nor from the dangers of the world… and he was only now beginning to realise that the hardest job of any parent was in learning to say goodbye.

"Sir?" Hornblower frowned.

"You know Hornblower, it's very hard for a father to see his children grow up." Pellew explained.

"I'm not sure I understand you Sir." Hornblower remarked.

"I dare say you will." Pellew sighed. _'I dare say you will.'_


End file.
